Hecate's Daughter and the Dissipating Mist
by GoGreen43
Summary: 2 years ago, the 7 demigods of the great prophecy decided to take a break from their demigod duties, and now are nowhere to be found. So when the Mist starts to disappear, three not-so-new demigods have to rise to the occasion, and save the world. (First Story in the Hecate's Daughter Trilogy)
1. Prologue

**Hecate's Daughter and the Dissipating Mist**

 **-Prologue-**

2 Years Ago:

"You're going to want to hear this, pops."

Zeus annoyingly looked toward Apollo, who was waltzing into the throne room of the Olympian Gods. He was about to reprimand the Sun God, but stopped as Apollo was oddly wearing an uncharacteristic worried look on his face.

Apollo stopped quickly, noticing that he walked into something private, but it didn't seem to bother him any more than that. "Zeus, I must speak with you," Apollo paused, looking specifically at the woman who was next to the god, " _Alone_."

Hera, who had been speaking quietly with her husband, took one look at Apollo and sighed. "I will go now, Zeus. It seems that this is only meant for your ears."

The King of the Gods nodded to his wife, and straightened himself upright in his throne. Apollo watched Hera carefully as she left the throne room, rolling his eyes at the slam of the doors that followed her absence.

"That woman really needs to learn her boundaries," Apollo muttered, flicking back his golden locks carelessly. "I mean, she has been creating a lot of issues between us and the demigods lately, and I don't like playing clean-up."

Zeus glared at his son. " _That woman_ did what was needed to be done. We all know that. Now, what was so important that you had to interrupt my conversation?"

Apollo flashed a cheeky grin at his father. "Having a conversation? Is that what people call it these days?"

The King of the Gods simply rolled his eyes at the Sun God's antics. Apollo took note that he wasn't really getting anywhere in this conversation, so he decided to make his point. "The Oracle has spoken, father. There is a new prophecy, and I do not think you are going to like it."

Zeus's face immediately became grim. "What has the Oracle said?"

 _"_ _A Child of Three_

 _shall set the sea free,_

 _and start a war_

 _Even greater than before._

 _The pit shall rise,_

 _the earth at its demise._

 _Only ended by a death,_

 _with a heroes final breath."_

Apollo recited the prophecy with ease, but the usually happy-go-lucky Sun God was now overcome with sadness at the sickening meaning of the prophecy. The poor soul who would be thrust into this prophecy would meet a tragic fate.

He could only hope that the fates would take mercy on the hero, and that was as far as he willed himself to go. Attachments are dangerous, they bring pain and sorrow to both parties, even more so because for an immortal.

Zeus's booming voice echoed, "Who knows about this?"

Apollo suddenly felt small under the scrutinizing stare of his father as he replied, "You and I are the only ones, Zeus. The Oracle has no idea of what she had spoken, but soon her dreams will be plagued with the dreams of the incoming threat."

Zeus nodded. "You must talk to Morpheus about monitoring her dreams. The less the demigods know about this the better off it will be. We don't need any more panic that had been spread after the last war. They need time to recuperate without impending doom in order for them to prepare for what is to come."

"So you want them to live without knowing that they may very well die within the next hour?"

The King of the Gods looked down on Apollo, lightning crackling in the distance. "Don't give me that tone, boy. We must keep this secret until the time is right."

The Sun God sighed, knowing once Zeus made a decision, the decision stayed. There was no way of shaking his will, now.

"As you wish, father."

Zeus nodded, and his shoulders slumped some before he took a deep breath. The weight of the last war had taken its toll on him, that much was easy to see.

"Father?"

Zeus turned his attention back to his son.

"You knew about this prophecy before I told you, didn't you?"

The King of the Gods' eyes were strained, and that's all the answer Apollo needed.

"How?"

Zeus raised an eyebrow, and looked at his son as though the answer was obvious. "Hecate. She has been preparing for this for the past 15 years, now."

Apollo's eyes widened, but Zeus's answer didn't completely take him by surprise. He simply nodded to the King of the Gods and turned on his heel, before walking calmly out of the throne room.

Miles below, a 15 year old girl was sitting in her cabin blissfully unaware at the tragic fate that lie ahead.


	2. The Outcast

**Hecate's Daughter and the Dissipating Mist**

 **Chapter 1: The Outcast**

 **-Blake Evans POV-**

There is evil and there is good in this world. The hardest part is figuring out which is which. A few years ago, there was an evil titan named Kronos that had been risen from the depths of Tartarus by a group of rogue half-bloods and monsters.

I was one of those half-bloods. My mother, Hecate, had decided to side with Kronos during the war, as the Olympian gods never showed any sort of charisma toward the minor gods and goddesses. She felt mistreated and misused, so she believed that there should be a new start.

I sided with my mother, as at the time, I knew nothing else. I didn't know the story of Kronos, I didn't realize how bad the world would be if he were to come to reign. The thought of the world being a worse place if Kronos would come to power never really occurred to me.

The rise of his power held promise for people like me, people who were lost and alone for the majority of their lives. I was one of those many children who never had a place to go for their godly parent, so I was stuck sleeping on the floor of the Hermes cabin.

And those Hermes kids really know how to make your life miserable, I tell you.

I never had any friends at Camp Half Blood, even after being there for years. People knew I was a daughter of Hecate, a spawn of magic, and they feared me. I thought there might be hope for me when I saw Nico and Bianca Di'Angelo come to camp, as they were both children of Hades.

They were like me, feared and untrustworthy.

But in the end, I still ended up alone. That's what drove me over to evil, to the mindless manipulation of Kronos and his goons.

And there is nothing that I regret more than what I had done while serving him. I had ruthlessly killed other demigods, letting my rage of being subjected to the fear of other people for so long take over. I had finally decided to become the monster that they thought I was.

I used my powers for evil. And that is something that I will never forgive myself for.

Ever since then I refused to use magic, something no one really seemed to understand. People labeled me as a traitor once I returned to Camp Half Blood, after speaking with Chiron about how I never really wanted to see the world in destruction, of course.

My fellow demigods decided that I wasn't one of them, and after I fought against them in the Battle of Manhattan, I've learned that I will never be able to live up to their standards.

Even my own siblings have seemed to have it out for me. They love magic and their worlds revolve around magic, so seeing that I have been refusing to use my magic- they simply do not understand. And because they can't understand my reasoning, they alienate me, and refuse to admit I am a child of Hecate.

I don't really blame them, really. After everything I've done I don't think I'm fit to call myself a child of Hecate either.

The only person who shows me mercy is Samson. He is a son of Hephaestus, and has a knack for fixing things- but not all the things he's drawn to fix are just _things_. Samson seems to think that he can fix me and how people think of me at camp.

He's probably the only person I could call my friend in this camp, even though I think he just really wants to fix me. I almost find it a bit insulting when he tries to get me involved with different things at camp.

I knew that in two minutes he was going to show up at my cabin's door, knock twice like he always does, and ask me to go listen to the campfire stories.

Sighing in defeat, I looked in the mirror and noticed just how blonde my hair was. It looked as though it had been bleached over and over again, and now it was practically white. My eyes were a light grey, but I don't think I remember a time where they weren't dull and lifeless.

So maybe I can understand why Samson wants to help me. Doesn't mean I have to like it.

I sat there in silence, seeing into the mirror, but not really seeing. I wasn't bad looking, and I knew that I was even borderline beautiful. But the things that made me beautiful, my eyes, my usual tan skin, my hair… it was as if everything had been oppressed and dulled.

I looked half-dead.

I shot out of my chair at the sound of two knocks on the door, and wildly grabbed a baseball cap from my nightstand, strung my long hair into a pony tail, and quickly made my way to the door.

I took a deep breath and opened it, and immediately was met with Samson's large body towering over mine.

Samson probably could have been in the NFL if he wasn't being chased by monsters every time he stepped out of camp's borders. He was a tall and built African American guy, who was probably one of the most athletic people I've ever met.

He was the fastest, strongest, and tallest guy in camp. He could easily be in any cabin right now making out with any girl of his choosing, but apparently he also has a ginormous heart too. And today I was going to appease him.

"Blake! I- uh- you opened the door," Samson spoke awkwardly, obviously surprised to see me. He ran a large hand on his neck, and smiled sheepishly. "I'm going to the campfire, would you like to come with me?"

I smiled up at him, and nodded. "Sure, Sam. But this isn't a date, okay? We are not going on a date."

Samson's smile widened at me, and he threw an arm around my shoulders. "Of course not, Doll. I wouldn't want to be the victim of your wrath again."

I rolled my eyes. "Just take me to the campfire, dude."

He grumbled a bit before releasing me and walking out of the cabin, grumbling something about girls and magic. I couldn't help but laugh as I shut the door behind me.

Samson brought me to the campfire, and it seemed as though everyone stopped conversing with each other when we arrived. We all knew who I was, we all knew what I did… but reactions like this doesn't make it any easier for me.

The big guy led me to a bench that was completely isolated from everyone else, I had to smile at the thoughtfulness. He knew I didn't really want to speak to anyone else, and he didn't try to force me on someone. I think I might have to take Sam up on his offers more often.

We slipped into a calm string of conversation; small talk, really. I asked him about the projects that he has been working on with his siblings, and he asked me about my magic.

"So, I've been meaning to ask, why is it that you refuse to use your magic? I remember before the Battle at Manhattan… you were amazing."

I looked away from him and stared into the fire, suddenly being hit with all the pain and suffering that I had caused. I mindlessly struck down helpless demigods, turning against the people who I was surrounded by every day.

"I don't really like to talk about it."

I saw Samson frown from in corner of my eye, but he was smart enough to drop it. The rest of the time we spent together was sitting in an awkward silence, but that was the most interaction I have had with another person in weeks.

It was kind of nice, actually.

My face fell when I saw that Samson had been called over to his siblings, and he looked down at me wearily. "Sorry, Doll, my cabin is working on a project right now, and I guess they need my help with it."

I nodded at him, and gave him a weak smile. "It's okay, don't worry about it, Sam."

His eyebrows pushed together and he looked at me confusedly. "Normally if I bring a girl somewhere and leave them they get all mad and yell at me."

Rolling my eyes, I explained, "Dude, we aren't on a date. You have no obligation to hang out with me, either. So go talk to your siblings. It looks like it's important."

He nodded at me, then smiled at me slowly, "Do you think we can hang out again? Not in a romantic way- I mean, it was easy to talk to you. And it was nice that you didn't slam the door in my face like you usually do."

I laughed. "Sam, I promise I won't ever do that again. It was nice to be able to talk to someone for a change."

"Well, if you ever want someone to talk to, I'm always willing to get into a conversation."

"Yeah, I know. Now go, your siblings must be thinking I'm holding you hostage."

He let out a laugh. "Okay, okay, I'll see you later, Blake."

I waved him off, and smiled when he walked over to his siblings. He might have looked like a NFL player, but at the heart, he was just too nice to be one. His siblings obviously adored him, from the glares they were sending my way. That's some real love, right there.

Turning away from their harsh stares, I looked around at the people around the campfire, seeing if there was anyone there I could recognize. The entire Apollo cabin was there, signing campfire songs while being led by Will Solace, probably the brightest kid I have ever encountered.

I saw a large group of girls from the Aphrodite cabin flirting with the boys from the Ares cabin. It was kind of fun to watch Clarisse deck a girl for trying to kiss one of her younger brothers. She's gotten a lot more laid back over the years.

My siblings were nowhere to be found, and I figured they must be out and about somewhere doing gods knows what. It seemed that everyone had someone to talk to, someone to be friends with, and there I was, sitting alone.

It was pretty pathetic.

I sighed, looking back towards Samson who was still in a heated conversation with a few of his siblings, who have all just decided to ignore me now. I knew he meant well, but this always seems to happen. Without Sam, there's no place for me here.

I got up to leave, and started to slowly walk away when I heard a voice say, "Where are you going?"

My eyes widened when I realized that the voice was talking to me. I slowly turned around, cautiously expecting some sort of prank to be pulled or someone to make fun of me.

But instead of seeing some know-it-all from camp, I saw a satyr standing in front of me, wearing an old Rasta cap. He had brown hair and a growing beard on a face that made me think of a leprechaun, of course, besides the whole fact he was half goat. A goatprechaun. That's what he was.

And oddly enough, I swear I had seen him before.

"Excuse me?" I asked, surprised he had bothered to speak to me.

The satyr shrugged. "I guess I always thought people had fun at these things."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you insinuating I'm not really a person?"

His eyes widened almost hysterically, and he put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "N-No, of course not! I was just saying that normally a person, such as yourself, doesn't leave early…"

I smiled at his awkwardness, and he seemed to relax when he saw I really didn't take anything offensively. "My name is Blake. What's yours?" I asked, holding a hand out.

He looked at it for a second then up at me with wide eyes. "Never seen someone hold out their hand before?"

He bleated in embarrassment and shook my hand quickly. "No, it's just… you remind me of someone I know, that's all."

"Oh."

We stood there awkwardly for a second, and he coughed before continued, "My name is Grover, Grover Underwood."

My jaw dropped as I realized who I was talking to. Percy Jackson's best friend, the Lord of the Wild. And I had just been joking around with him, making him feel uncomfortable. Gods, I can't believe I'm that stupid.

He nervously laughed and rubbed the back of his neck while I just stared at him stupidly, my mouth opening and closing like an idiot. I was at a complete loss of words.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

He smiled warmly at me. "Don't worry about it. I do realize I'm probably one of the most awkward satyrs to ever exist, so please, don't worry about it. It's nice to talk to someone who doesn't look at me in awe, being Percy's friend and all."

I shook my head. "No, it's not that you're Percy Jackson's friend, which is pretty cool I guess, but you're the Lord of the Wild! The Chosen One of Pan! Dude, you've got quite the resume."

He rolled his eyes at the titles, but blushed at the same time before muttering something that sounded like, "I told Rachel to stop telling stories…"

We stood there in an awkward silence, and I have to admit that it wasn't just his awkwardness, I can be quite the uncomfortable presence too.

"Well, I guess I better get going," I said, quickly gesturing back to my cabin. "Don't want to keep you from telling about your adventures."

He smiled. "Daughter of Hecate, huh? Were you in the-"

I nodded, a frown covering my face. He saw the change and quickly cut himself off. "Bad memories?"

I sighed, and realized that if I couldn't talk to someone I would probably never see again about this, I would never be able to talk to anyone. "Miserable memories, really. Can I tell you something?"

He looked at me, his eyes widening before he gestured for the empty bench behind us. We sat down, and he gestured for me to go on. I looked at him weirdly, at this, and he explained, "I wasn't a guardian for nothing. People like to talk to me. Must be my social awkwardness that makes it more comfortable."

I smiled a bit, and took a deep breath, not really knowing how he was going to take this. "Look, back at the Battle of Manhattan, I sided with Kronos."

His eyebrows furrowed, and he nodded. "Many people did."

"Looking back at what I did, what they made me do… I killed so many Half-Bloods, the very same people I used to call my family… it's disgusting."

Grover sighed, and put a hand on my arm softly. "This happened years ago. It's what you're doing to yourself now that people see. I know many people who sided with Kronos that are just fitting back in with camp fine. It was a lapse in judgement, and we understand that."

I crossed my arms, and sighed to myself. "It's not like I try to isolate myself… it's just that people naturally fear me and what I can do. I don't know how to be like them."

Grover smiled. "You know how I said that you reminded me of someone?"

I nodded, and looked at him with anticipation.

"Percy Jackson. You remind me of him. When he first came to camp, he was very powerful, something that many people didn't understand, and they feared him because of the power that he held. He was confused, and he didn't realize that in order to keep people from fearing him, he needed to stop fearing himself."

I snorted. "I'm not scared of what I can do."

He rolled his eyes. "Then why do you refuse to use your magic?"

I looked at him pointedly, shocked that Grover had actually been able to fool me.

"Someone set you up for this, didn't they?" My eyes flickered to my so-called friend who was now heading back to his cabin. "Samson put you up to this?"

Grover now looked confused. "Sam-who?"

I sighed. "Never mind. So who made you talk to me about this?"

Grover smiled, gesturing to the Big House. "You do realize Chiron knows what's going on with every camper, every second, of every minute? He saw that you have been continuously refusing to play nice with others and use your magic, so when I came to see my girlfriend, he asked me to help him out."

"Why would _Chiron,_ of all people, care about what's going on with me?"

Grover's face went pale, and I realized I was touching on a very serious subject. He gulped before responding, "Chiron cares about all of his campers, it's really not that big of a deal."

"You're lying."

His face continued to turn into a tomato. "N-No I'm not!"

I laughed at his denial. "Of course you are. Now will you please tell me why the guy in charge of this camp has suddenly decided to look out for me?"

Grover sighed, knowing that he lost this battle. "Okay, you can't tell anyone what I am going to tell you. Do you swear?"

"Every damn day." He narrowed his eyes at my response. "Okay, fine. I won't tell the one person I actually talk to."

He seemed pleased at my answer, then continued, "Something big is going to happen, Blake. Big things have been happening behind closed doors on Olympus, and no one knows what it is. Not even Chiron. But Chiron seems to believe that it may have something to do with you."

"Why me?"

"I don't know. All I know is that very important people are starting to pay close attention to you. Whether or not it's good or bad is all German to me."

"It's all _Greek_ to me," I pointed out.

"Huh?"

I sighed. "The phrase, that you just said? 'It's all German to me'? Well, it's really supposed to be Greek, not German, so…"

"Okay, whatever. It's just that the gods are starting to get worried about something, and Chiron seems to think it has something to do with you. So, just be on the look-out, okay?"

I nodded, biting my lip as the confusion and nerves over my impending fate began to take over my body. "Okay, thank you for letting me know."

He seemed to see my sullen expression, and then quickly covered, "I'm sure it's not really that bad, you know. I mean, I don't think you're going to die or anything…"

I gave him a half smile. "If the gods are worried about something that I am going to be smack dab in the middle of? Yeah, I think that's pretty bad. But forewarned is forearmed, so thank you, Grover."

He nodded, and then stood up. "Well, seeing that we're the last ones here, and not to mention that you're probably past your curfew, I think we should get going."

I suddenly realized that everyone had up and left, and the camp fire that had once been burning tall and bright is now just tiny embers that create a sad, dim light.

"Yeah," I agreed, standing up with him. "Thanks for the talk, Grover. Even though you were kind of forced to do this, it still means a lot."

He blushed, holding out a hand. "I look forward to our next meeting, Blake Evans. Good luck, and don't forget about what we talked about."

I shook his hand with a smile. I knew he wasn't talking about why he was sent to talk to me in the first place. He was trying to get me to see that I couldn't let fear control me. But that fight was going to be for another day.

Grover Underwood turned away and walked back into the darkening woods where I figured his girlfriend was probably waiting for him.

I turned and looked at my cabin, made of stones that could blow the entire camp up, and sighed. All the cabins were dark, and the one I was going to return do wasn't any different. I couldn't help but think about how no one was waiting for me as I started the short journey to Cabin 20.

And with that final thought, the last ember faded and the camp was shrouded in darkness.


	3. Riding A Bike

**Hecate's Daughter and the Dissipating Mist**

 **Chapter 2- Riding A Bike**

 **-Blake POV-**

 _"_ _Surgere! Surgere! Surgere!"_

 _I was hidden in the middle of a crowd full of monsters and misfit demigods who were either lost, psychopathic, or just plain stupid. I realized I was hidden with the mist, a power that I have had all my life. Choking in a breath, I recognized the words they were chanting to be Latin for "rise."_

 _This can't be good._

 _Black and red smoke surrounded us, the tainted essence of evil running through the dark cavern. The chanters were holding up torches of Greek Fire for light, and the eerie green glow that emitted only added to the terror._

 _It was pure chaos, and I was confused as to how I had gotten there. I had never been a part of something like this since Kronos was being risen from Tartarus, something I had seen to personally. But this… this was something else._

 _All of the sudden I felt a presence start to pull me from my spot, and move me through the crowd. The monsters and traitors were seemingly unaware of the fact that I was bumping into them and being forced through the crowd, as if something else was in control here._

 _I tried to call out to someone, anyone, I didn't care if they were on my side or not. It's better that than the latter._

 _The strong force continued to pull me through the crowd until I was standing in front of a pit, one that seemed to go on and on forever. There was no way anyone could have survived falling down that. I continued to struggle against the resistance, and dug my heels into the ground._

 _Quickly realizing that I wasn't having any effect on the force pulling me, I started to reach blindly for something that could hold me. I grabbed for someone's arm, but oddly my hand went right through their body and threw off my balance, forcing me to the ground._

 _I couldn't even think about the impending death that awaited me, it all started to happen so fast._

 _It pulled me to the edge, and I let out a cry as with one swift tug the force sent me over the edge into the unknown. I couldn't hold back my scream of terror._

"Blake! Wake up!"

I shot awake, sitting up with a gasp. I was lucky I was short enough so my head wouldn't hit the top of the bunk, which is probably the only reason I like being short. Other than that, my height deficiency kind of sucks.

I was met with the lovely presence of the head of our cabin, Lou Ellen. She was probably the only one of my siblings that tried to talk to me, but after I saw that it affected her relations with my other siblings, I made the bold decision to save her and push her away.

"Huh? What's going on?" I mumbled, my voice laced with sleep.

Lou Ellen laughed. "You didn't tell me you and Samson were hanging out, Blake. He seems very nice."

She winked at me, and I let out a hard breath, not really liking the innuendo she was putting in there. "Look, we're just friends and that's all we're ever going to be. Besides, he's like, totally out of my league."

Lou Ellen rolled her eyes. "Well, the guy who's _so_ not out of your league is waiting for you. I guess he wants to walk you to breakfast."

I shook my head. "Look, whatever you think is going on is definitely not going on. So let me get dressed and out of your way."

Lou Ellen's eyebrows furrowed, obviously taken aback by my statement. "Blake, you're not a hindrance. I know it, and if you just prove yourself the others will too."

Sighing, I looked towards the door that I knew Samson was waiting behind. "I need to go. I'll see you later, Lou Ellen."

She nodded, and I inwardly cringed at the sad look on her face, knowing that it was my fault that she felt that way. I'm just glad she knew not to push anymore. It made this a whole lot easier.

I got out of bed and threw on my camp shirt and some jeans before I quickly brushed my teeth and threw on my favorite ball cap. I didn't bother throwing my hair into a pony tail or doing anything that required time because I knew Samson was probably getting bored.

I didn't think making him wait would be smart if I actually wanted him to be my friend.

Opening the door, I had to dodge a fist that came knocking. "It's too early to take a swing, Sam," I teased, laughing a bit at the look of horror as he realized how close he was to actually hitting me.

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry, I was just knocking to see if you were up-"

"Relax, no harm no foul," I said, rolling my eyes at his weariness.

He smiled at me with his 100 watt smile that probably made most girls go weak at the knees, but I didn't really think of him that way so I guess I was immune to his charms.

"Do you want to head to breakfast? We will probably be a little late, but I think we'll be okay."

I suddenly noticed how empty the cabins were as everyone had already headed out to get food. "Are you sure you want to be seen with me?" I asked, half joking.

He scoffed, and threw an arm over my shoulders. "Look, I don't care what people think about me. I want to have breakfast with you, so I am going to have breakfast with you. No questions asked."

I nodded at his perfect answer, a small smile playing on my lips. I knew Samson had a lot of experience making people feel good about themselves, but if I didn't know he was a son of Hepheastus, I would have thought he inherited Aphrodite's Charm Speak.

The rest of the short walk to the Dining Pavilion was spent in a comfortable silence, which was actually kind of nice. We walked into the hall together, and I made sure we kept a safe difference apart so no one would get the wrong idea.

If I felt awkward from the stares at the camp fire, I sure did feel uncomfortable now. The entire camp pretty much stopped and looked at us when we walked in together, more or less taking notice of me. I cringed at the glares that were coming my way, primarily from Samson's fangirls and the Hephaestus cabin.

Everyone else seemed to shrug and carry on with eating and their conversations, but there were some glares that I couldn't shake, making me regret the idea of coming with Samson.

"Let's sit there," he directed me, pointing to an open table in the far corner of the hall. This was really supposed to be a table for guests, but after the Great War not many people have come around, so I normally sit there.

We sat down in silence, and I immediately thought of pancakes and orange juice and started to eat to my heart's content. I barely noticed how much of a pig I was being until Samson laughed.

"I didn't know you ate like that," he joked, quirking an eyebrow at me.

I paused at his remark, an entire pancake stuffed in my mouth, and simply shrugged before carrying on with eating my delicious meal. I mean, props to the god or goddess who made this possible because they always make the best food.

"So, what were you and Grover Underwood talking about last night?" Samson asked after he swallowed a large bite of food.

I looked at him oddly. "Why do you want to know?"

Shrugging, he replied, "I guess I've never seen you in a conversation with someone for that long before."

"Am I supposed to take offense to that?"

His eyes widened at my suddenly defensive nature kicking in, and he held his arms up in a surrendering gesture. "No! No, of course not. I mean, it's just that you were talking with him when my siblings and I left… it seemed to be very serious."

I sighed, and put my fork down onto my plate. "Look, apparently Chiron got him to check in with me and see why I wasn't using my powers. Grover had apparently just gotten to camp to visit with his girlfriend, and because of his connections with demigods Chiron decided to use Grover as an inside reference."

Samson nodded, his dark eyes darting to the head table where Chiron was conversing with Dionysus calmly.

"Why would Chiron care about you not using your magic?"

I rolled my eyes at his bluntness. "Besides the fact that I'm all sorts of amazing? I have no idea."

Samson believed the lie, and started to dig back into his food with what could be a worried look on his face. Any camper knew that if Chiron bothered to get involved with someone or something that there was going to be something going on, and soon.

I hope that it doesn't turn out to be too bad, seeing that I'm supposed to be in the main cast for this one.

"Samson?" I asked, my voice sounding as though I was in a daze. "Do you think you could teach me how to defend myself?"

He looked up at me, and I immediately knew the look I had seen before was definitely worry. "Why would you need to learn that?"

I shrugged, trying to look as complacent as possible. "Other than trying not to be eaten by monsters when I leave camp, you mean?"

Samson's eyes stared into mine, and I knew that he saw through my lie. But I also knew that he wasn't dumb enough to try and call me out on it. I knew he would think it would scare me away.

"You know you can tell me anything, Blake? No matter how bad it is? That's what friends do, you know. They tell each other things no matter how bad it turns out to be."

I nodded, turning my eyes away from his intensifying stare. "Of course."

"And Blake?" I looked up to see a softer look on his face. "I would love to teach you how to fight without your magic."

I nodded, a smile coming onto my face. "Thanks, Samson. Can we start today? If it's not too much to do, I mean. I know you actually go and participate with your cabin's activities."

He rolled his eyes at me. "You do realize that if you did the same thing you would be able to fight? I mean, holing yourself up in your cabin all day is probably why Chiron decided to check on you."

"Nico did the same thing, or don't you remember that?"

Samson crossed his arms at my sudden snap. " _Nico_ , unlike you, actually used his magical powers and summoned undead warriors to practice with. So unlike you, Nico actually received some training. Even if it was very unformal."

I decided to ignore him and his stupid logic knowing that he was obviously too stubborn to let me win. I quickly finished my food and my orange juice before turning to him, seeing him poking at the remainder of his omelet.

I stood up out of my seat and picked up my tray. He looked up at me and opened his mouth to say something, and knowing him, it would probably be an apology. I held up my free hand and he snapped his mouth shut.

"Are you going to teach me or not? Because I don't know about you, but I have the rest of the day to learn some sick moves."

A small smile came onto his face, and his eyes lit up with enjoyment. He stood up, his large figure towering over me as it always does, never failing to make me feel like a complete midget.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" He asked, leading the way to the dumping station and out the dining pavilion, dozens of eyes following our every movement as we made our way out.

We reached the amphitheater quickly, as I was practically running from my excitement and Samson easily kept up with me. I've never really been this excited before, but learning how to do something without the crutch of my magic was very intriguing.

Once we got there, Samson led me to a shed that was just on the outside of the practice battlegrounds. I was confused, and he quickly saw that and explained, "Before I teach you how to fight, we need to find you a proper weapon."

Immediately on instinct my eyes widened and I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck in nervousness. "Wait, what? Why can't I just use one of the practice swords?"

"Look, I know you understand the basics of swordplay. There's no way you would have survived the Battle at Manhattan and the Great War without knowing it. Besides, if you want to be able to defend yourself in the _real world_ , you're going to need a weapon."

"But I can use my-"

"Magic?" He rose an eyebrow. "You haven't performed a spell in years. Even if you were to in a life or death situation, we both know you're too out of practice to really make an actual difference."

I sighed, and nodded. Instead of acting like a three year old and denying it, I accepted my fate. I was going to need a weapon.

Samson smiled and opened the door, and we walked into a shed, or rather a warehouse of old-looking weapons. He immediately pointed out some small daggers that were easily concealed and good for someone who didn't really want to have a weapon, but none of them really felt right in my hand.

He directed me to the long swords, ones ancient sons and daughters of Hepheastus must have crafted, and just by the look of them I knew that if I even tried to pick one up, it would be a complete nightmare.

"Okay… so, what kind of weapon _have_ you used?"

I shrugged, "I only ever fought with a knife, but it broke during the battle. I also did some sword work, Luke made sure that we were all up to par on our battle skills."

Samson nodded, and looked around the room before he stopped. "So, you can use a sword, but you need to be able to actually hold onto it… actually, I know what might work for you."

He opened a chest that looked really old, and pulled out a sword in a sheath. "I don't know where this came from, or really anything about it- but I do know that it was made from my father, because only he could make something like this."

He unsheathed the sword, and my eyes immediately widened. The sword was pure, almost like glass, but gold was molded through the glass making it seem very enchanting. "It's made out of celestial gold and some sort of glass isotope that is stronger than steel, I think."

I nodded, grabbing the sword from his hand and swinging it around, feeling as though it was like an extension of my arm- a perfect fit.

Samson jumped out of the way of the sword when it got too close. "Gods!" He exclaimed. "I'm glad you like it, but please point that thing someplace else."

I chuckled, a giddy feeling taking over me. I didn't think I would be able to sheath a weapon, more or less actually enjoy the feeling of it in my hand.

Samson dragged me outside into the amphitheater and immediately brought me towards some dummies. "Okay, Blake. Show me what you got."

I smirked at him, and nodded. "You bet."

It was if I remembered a part of my life that I had tried so hard to forget in an instant. The very memories that I had worked so hard to forget came back. The memories started to flood through me of my time following Kronos, and I felt myself being sucked into the past.

I started going through the routine I had learned before at the base camp the demigods who sided with Kronos went to. There wasn't any real name for it, but we did have a very organized training system, and swordplay was one of them.

 _Thrust_

 _Side cut_

 _Backhand side_

 _Overhand_

 _Overhand backhand…_

I lost myself in the routine, feeling as though I was back with the traitors, back learning how to become a monster.

I immediately felt myself stop mid-swing, and I relaxed my stance, looking at the now completely beaten up dummy and Samson who was staring at me with wide eyes.

I felt myself drop the sword and I wrapped myself in my arms, staring coldly at the dummy in front of me. I was angry at myself for letting my emotions take over and letting myself become sucked into being a mindless machine. A monster.

Samson cleared his throat, turning my icy gaze towards him. I saw his eyebrows scrunch together at my sickened appearance, but he didn't comment on it. Instead he said, "I guess you don't really need me to teach you after all."

I let out a shaky breath and attempted to smile. "Just like riding a bike, I guess."

Samson nodded, and walked toward me and held out his arms slowly as if I was going to jump at any moment, before pulling me into a warm embrace. I stood still, not really knowing what to do, as he held me for a few seconds.

Then, I felt my knees give out.

I heard him gasp at the weight, but he held me up as I wrapped my arms around him. "I can't do this, Samson… it's turning me into something I'm not. I didn't even know I could do that, Samson. What else don't I remember?"

"You're going to okay, Blake. I won't let you become someone else. I'll help you… you just need to let me."

I pulled away from him and his embrace, and he looked down at me with a small smile. "Thank you, Samson. I mean, you could be hanging out with any person in this entire camp and you chose me. You make me want to be human."

He rolled his eyes. "Sister, as far as I'm concerned you're human. Well, part human part god. You're no monster, no matter how much you think you are. You still have your humanity left."

I nodded, and smiled. I was really happy to be able to call him my friend.

"Okay, now pick up that sword and show me some other moves of yours."

Laughing at the friendly innuendo in his voice, I reached down and grabbed my sword, and started to attack the dummy, but with different tactics. I decided to make my own routine, and avoid all flashbacks with caution.

But, all of the sudden, a new voice cut me off. "Samson, what are you doing?"

I immediately stopped and turned around at the masculine voice, curious to see who would approach us. I was surprised to see, standing there in all of his glory, was Aiden Thorne, son of Athena, and probably the most ruthless guy I've ever met.

Aiden's curly dark hair and his stormy grey eyes resembled his mother, along with the long and lean athletic figure that made him look as though he could have been on the cover of sport's edition. Everything about him was above standard, which also included his choice in friends.

And that's one of the main reasons why he refuses to even acknowledge my existence… until now.

"I'm helping Blake with some sword fighting. You can join us, if you'd like," Samson replied, his voice very tight as though he was expecting a confrontation.

"You cancelled on the strategy meeting for capture the flag to help _her_? Do you realize who she is?"

Samson glared at the enraged Aiden, and crossed his arms stubbornly. "First of all, _her_ name is Blake, and yeah, I know who she is, but I've decided to give her a second chance."

I scoffed, looking between the two bumbling idiots with disdain. "Is that what I am, Samson? A charity case who needs to turn over a new leaf?"

Aiden rolled his ridiculously gray eyes. "Who asked for your opinion, traitor?"

"And who asked for yours, you pompous brat? Just because Sam wanted to help someone out doesn't mean you have to act like a two year old about it."

He sneered. "Traitor."

I grinned. "Brat."

Samson, becoming uncomfortable with the oncoming tension, and also probably obvious of the sword I still held in my hands, decided to speak up. "Okay, knock it off. Aiden, can we talk about this later? As in, get the hell away before she decides to slice you up? And Blake, _please_ don't slice him up. He's my friend."

I dropped the sword, pissed off. Of course he wanted to talk to Mr. Arrogant Ass and toss me to the side. Just like he did with his siblings. Push Blake aside when you get bored is starting to become a common theme around here.

"You know what? I'll just go. I don't really want to get in the middle of a bromance anyways."

I stalked out of the amphitheater with clenched fists, hearing an apologizing Samson and a mocking Aiden as I left them behind me.


	4. The Oracle

**Hecate's Daughter and the Dissipating Mist**

 **Chapter 3- The Oracle**

 **-Blake Evans POV-**

I couldn't believe how stupid a son of Athena could be. Aiden Thorne, the bane of my existence, was quite possibly the most close-minded people I have ever met, yet he was a son of the greatest thinker of all time. One would think he would be a little more accepting of others.

But the same thing could be said for Samson, as well. He was a son of Hephaestus, a god that was not to be trifled with, and hard around the edges. The big guy was decidedly not hard around the edges like his father, nor was he very stern.

These people weren't like their parents at all, yet that's how they define themselves. That's how they define other people, like me.

I was absolutely livid. Who had instilled the power on these two boys to decide what to call me? Who gave them the right to decidedly call me a traitor? To think of me as someone who needs to be fixed?

I do not need to be _fixed_ , thank you very much.

My feet carried me angrily towards the forest, the very place where demigods go and never come back. And apparently the ones who do have either been involved in the quest to stop Gaea, or are insane. But I don't know if there is any difference.

We're all a little bit crazy on the inside.

My head felt as though it was going to explode, and I felt a tug in my belly that was like a tempting itch that needed to be satisfied. Whenever I was angry, my body's desire to preform magic only intensified, and it felt as if I was going through drug withdrawals.

I stumbled through the forest, the fallen branches and logs proving to be hard to avoid when all I could see was red. I knew I needed to calm down or I wasn't going to be able to control what I was going to do next.

My clumsiness crept up to me as my foot met a fallen branch and caused me to go flying and take a hard turn towards the ground.

"Oof!"

I had braced myself with my hands, but my momentum still made me go head-first into the dirt. I laid there, feeling the temptations of magic slowly drift away as I felt the cold earth against my cheek, grounding myself to reality.

I wasn't going to hurt anyone over some stupid son of Hephaestus, or an even stupider son of Athena.

Sighing at my ridiculous rampage I was about to go on, I slowly sat up and leaned against a nearby tree. The sun was starting to go down, and I knew from experience that it was close to 7 o'clock. I had only two more hours of daylight before I would be lost in the darkness.

And gods know how far away from camp I was already.

I got up and started to walk in the direction that I think I came from, but after tripping and falling I don't really know what direction was the right direction. For all I knew, I could be going the opposite way from where camp was.

I guess my fate was now in the hands of the gods.

The maze of trees was daunting, and I felt as though I was walking in circles. I was starting to lose hope in finding my way back to camp when I spotted something behind some thick trees. It was light- there was someone in the forest with me.

Unfortunately I didn't really have a choice in whether or not to approach the person who could very possibly try to kill me. After hearing about the labyrinth fiasco that happened years ago, it was obvious that even in camp borders, no one was really safe.

I decided to take my chances, and I walked towards the light behind the trees. As I got closer, I noticed that it was coming from a cave, which was very strategically hidden amongst bushes.

Walking through the entrance of the cave, I was astounded at what I saw. There were paintings littering the walls and the floors, papers strewn across different tables and desks that made it look like a mad person lived here.

There was blatant style with the décor, as well. There was a couch, two chairs, a bed, and what I think was a place to put food. It was weird, as I never met an evil person who had this good of style.

I slowly walked forward into the living quarters, carefully trying not to step on anything that could be noticed later. If I wanted to try and stay on the good side of whomever lived here, I wasn't going to want to ruin their things.

My foot tapped a painting, and I immediately stilled, and looked down at a painting that I swore wasn't in my way a second ago. Curiously I picked it up, but stiffened as I saw what it entailed.

It was the Battle of Manhattan, and I was standing in the middle of a wreckage that included bodies, buildings, and things that I don't even think I could describe.

My hair was in a disarray, covered in blood spatter and grime. My face was an exact copy of that, but darker with my naturally tanned skin. My clothes were also covered in blood and grime, but they looked to be ripped to pieces. My arms were being held out wide as a purple magic spewed out of my hands, and I knew that it was a killing spell.

It caused people's insides to turn to dust, one of the worst punishments of them all.

But what caused me to tense up was the deadly look that haunted my eyes. My eyes that could be described as bright and even flowing with vibrant energy looked dark, dead, and lifeless. A breath caught in my throat, and tears pricked my eyes.

I was a monster, and whomever painted this knew it.

I lightly placed the painting back where I found it, not being able to bear to look at it any more. I knew there was a reason why I refused to preform magic anymore, and that was exactly it. The power that it gave me had driven me to be a blood-thirsty monster, and I want nothing to do with it.

I continued to look around, seeing different paintings that were mostly about the seven in the great prophecy, or about Grover, Nico Di'Angelo, or other people I don't know.

My eyes scanned over the paintings, newly aware at the scenes that were being portrayed in front of me. I saw Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase clinging to each other, eyes wide in fear. I saw Nico Di'Angelo, his hand stretched out over the trench that I knew to be the brink of Tartarus. There was Piper McLean, looking into her blade, while Jason Grace looked on at her lovingly.

Suddenly I found myself looking at a painting that looked like me, Samson and Aiden. I picked it up, noticing the white of my hair instantly. I was wielding a clear sword, Samson a staff, and Aiden a dagger the three of us were looking up in fear, as if we were staring down an oncoming threat.

My heart sped up as I looked on, and saw even more pictures including the three of us. Aiden writing, Samson fighting off what looked like a dog, me hanging off the side of a cliff and someone reaching down towards me…

Normal demigod stuff, I guess.

But there was one that really caught my eye. It was the three of us, standing in what looked to be the underworld in front of Hades' Palace. My breath caught in my throat as I realized that there was only two ways someone could be in the Underworld- dead, or hopelessly stupid.

And believe me, I am _not_ stupid.

"Who the hell are you?"

My head snapped up, and my eyes widened almost comically as I found myself a victim of the glare of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the oracle.

I carefully set down the painting of me in hell and looked at her cautiously. "I got lost, and wandered here, I'm sorry for startling you," I apologized, trying to make myself seem as non-threatening as possible.

Her green eyes narrowed for a second, then relaxed when she saw the sincerity in my tone. "Well, I'm glad you found your way here, Blake Evans. I have been seeing a lot of you lately."

"That sounds very creepy, but okay."

She smiled at my bluntness and smirked. "You do realize I'm the Oracle of Delphi, right?"

I nodded. "Oracle or not, when you tell a stranger that you have been seeing them lately, it kind of comes across as creepy."

Rachel laughed, "I guess you're right, Blake."

I nodded, and stood there awkwardly for a second as she walked in the cave and made herself at home, plopping down on the couch with her paint-covered jeans and loose T-Shirt.

"Are you going to sit down, or what?"

I quickly took a seat beside her on the couch, and rubbed my neck nervously. It's not every day you meet someone who has seen your future, especially when said future seems pretty bad.

"Look, I know you can see the future, and I know that you can only tell little things about the future, but I'm just going to come out and ask: why the hell am I in hell?"

The red-head looked at the painting that I was pointing to, and her eyes widened a bit when she saw that we were standing in front of Hades' Palace.

"Look, all I can tell you is that you're not dead in this picture. You're searching for something, and you're on a quest."

"Wh-What? Why would someone send me on a quest?"

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "Obviously someone sends you on a quest with these two other guys. Who are both not unattractive if you know what I mean."

"And who happen to be the very two who caused me to get in this mess in the first place," I muttered.

"What was that?"

I smiled, "Nothing that matters. So, why would I need to go on a quest? Is there something that you're not telling me? Because that seems to be happening a lot lately."

Rachel laughed, "Believe me, I get it. But look, something big is going to happen, and you're going to be in the middle of it. You're going to have to make a few choices, and whether or not they're the right ones will determine the fate of mankind."

I let out a low whistle, trying (and failing) to comprehend the intensity of what she told me. "What if I don't want to? I mean, I know there are plenty of other demigods who want to prove themselves. Like Aiden Listner, for instance."

A mischievous glint popped in her eye. "Oh, believe me, Aiden will have his fun, too. But Blake, please listen to me on this. If you are to do anything, it is believe in yourself. Because if you don't believe in yourself and what you are capable of doing for good, then you will find that you can believe in others as well."

"And let me guess, this choice I'm going to have to make- it includes needing to believe in myself?"

The oracle nodded, a grave look coming over her face. "You are going to need to let go, sometime. Once you stop blaming yourself, others will too."

I laughed nervously. "I really hope there are going to be do-overs with this one."

Rachel laughed, and her eyes gleamed with what I think was remembrance. "You remind me of a dear friend of mine, Blake Evans."

I raised an eyebrow in question, and she continued, "I met a boy at the Hoover Dam what seems like ages ago. That same boy grew up, and I fell in love with him. But I wasn't the only one. His best friend, a daughter of Athena who has never left his side, fell for him too."

"So this is a love story?" I asked, looking at her confusedly.

"No," she shook her head. "The boy had to watch as many of his friends died to save him. It was slowly driving him to the brink of madness, but for the good of the demigods that he led- he knew he had to remain strong.

"He had to live with this guilt that he was of fault for their deaths, and he still does. But what happened was that he accepted what happened, he accepted that they sacrificed themselves for a good cause, and he moved on. You need to accept your faults, Blake, or else you will drown in them."

"But the people I killed didn't die to save me… I _killed_ them out of cold blood. I am a monster. The painting that showed me in the middle of a wreckage in Manhattan basically solidifies that fact. What I did to those people is unforgiveable."

Rachel tutted, and held out a finger to shut me up. "Who said anything about the forgiveness of others? You need to accept what you did and move on. It is acting like a chain, holding you back from your true potential."

"And what if I don't?"

She looked at me, her green eyes turning grave and I realized just how old her soul truly was.

"You die."

I gulped, and looked down at my trembling hands. What she was saying was true, but I didn't know how I was supposed to do what she was asking. Accepting something that defined who I was, a monster, seemed to be almost impossible.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll figure it out in time. But if you ever need help, just iris message me and we can talk about it."

I nodded. But my mind kept on being dragged back to her story about the boy she had fallen in love with. "Who was that boy?"

A small smile played on her lips. "That boy is now a man named Percy Jackson. You've probably heard of him. And his best friend? Her name is Annabeth Chase."

I laughed, glad that she saw I needed a quick change of subject. Impending death didn't really sit too well with me. "So because you're friends with them… do you know where they disappeared off to? Or why they disappeared?"

Rachel nodded. "As you can imagine, being a part of two prophecies can really take a toll on a person. The seven demigods who took place in the great prophecy didn't just decide to take a break or a vacation from their demigod duties, like what everyone has been led to believe."

I leaned back in the couch, my tension from the earlier conversation starting to ease off of my shoulders at the familiar gossip. "Why did they leave, then?"

"Well, there is a new prophecy, and none of them wanted anything to do with it, I guess."

"So they decided to just leave? They're some of the best leaders we have! If there _is_ an oncoming threat, we're going to need all the help we can get!"

Rachel nodded in agreement, "Which is why Chiron knows their location in case we need them to help us in time of a crisis."

"I just can't believe that they would let us deal with a prophecy on our own. I mean, it would be great to have them here to guide us."

"But just imagine what they have gone through, Blake. Percy and Annabeth went to the deepest, darkest place in hell, and are the only demigods to be lucid enough to escape alive. As for the others? They went through some pretty messed up shit over the years as well."

I shook my head, as the revelation of this conversation started to dawn on me. "Is that what it is? Am I going to be a part of some prophecy?"

The oracle's eyes widened, and she took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that's something I cannot answer." She looked out of the entrance of the cave. "And it's getting dark. You'll be needing to get back to camp before the harpies start lurking around camp."

I nodded, and felt a sickening feeling fall in my stomach. All I know is that whatever was about to happen is not going to be pretty, especially if an oracle wasn't allowed to tell someone about it.

She told me to follow the rock back to camp as the cliff the cave was in reached the edge of the forest and into the main camp borders. "It should only take you ten minutes, tops, to reach camp. If you find yourself in any danger, use this," she handed me a drachma. "And iris message me or someone else to come and get you. It was a pleasure finally meeting you."

I nodded and took the drachma appreciatively, then quickly walked out of the cave and into the darkening woods with the rock to guide my way.

Little did I know, a satyr with a Rasta cap walked out of the shadows of the cave and spoke to the oracle with a grave tone. "Why didn't you tell her the truth?"

The red-head shrugged. "She wasn't ready. She will know when she is ready."

The satyr groaned. "Just because you're an oracle doesn't mean you need to speak all cryptically."

"Even though she's not ready to hear the truth, she will learn of the quest tomorrow. Make sure Chiron is ready and prepare the campers."

The satyr simply nodded and disappeared back into the forest, a cold feeling of dread washing over the both of them.

"Be safe, Blake," the oracle mumbled. "Be safe."

 **oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Oh gods, you're alive!"

I heard Samson before I could see him as I burst through the opening in the forest. His tall, lean frame stood out in the darkness with a torch illuminating his features. The sun had gone down on my way back, so I understood the panic.

I didn't have any time to react before he took me in for a hug and squeezing tight. He quickly pulled away and looked over me with worry covering all of his features. "Are you okay? I swear, if you ever run off into the forest again I'll-"

I raised an eyebrow at his scolding. "You'll what? As far as I'm concerned, you don't own me."

He scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm never going to win, am I?"

Smirking, I replied, "I don't see why you even try."

"Sorry for interrupting this little moment here, but Sam we need to get back before the harpies eat us," a voice spoke from my right.

I turned to see a shadowed Aiden Thorne standing there, his arms crossed impatiently. "But not you, traitor. I think you can stay right where you are."

Samson tensed, and glared at his friend. "Aiden, quit being an ass. You don't even know Blake."

The son of Athena rolled his eyes meticulously. "I know enough to see that she is a traitor and who shouldn't even be allowed at camp," he paused, and looked around as if searching for something. "But seriously we should be getting back."

"It's okay, Samson. Aiden obviously doesn't understand how to talk to others. Or share with others, for that matter."

Aiden's face went noticeably red, even in the dark. "Why you-"

Samson cut him off, "Okay, the both of you, shut up," he turned to the brunet. "Aiden, can you grow up?" he turned towards me. "And Blake, will you stop egging him on?"

Looking at him sheepishly, I nodded and felt stupid that I was being scolded by him, especially in front of the very reason for my residual anger. But, I had to make Samson believe I was the bigger person, here.

When neither of us said anything, Samson simply nodded at the tense peace that had been made. "Good. I swear, the two of you could not be any more different."

Aiden simply rolled his eyes. "C'mon Sam. Let's go." He grabbed hold of Samson and walked towards their cabins with a vicious glare that had gone unnoticed by our tall friend.

I glared right back at him until he was forced to turn away and continue on with Sam. And suddenly, I was left alone in the darkness. For once in my life, I decided that I would do the smart thing and head back to my cabin, too tired to really bother to think about all that I had learned in the past few hours.

All that crossed my mind before I collapsed from exhaustion was that I had made a best friend, but also a worst enemy.


End file.
